AFTER SCHOOL I WENT HOME TO CLEAN UP before my classmates arrived at my house. I’d left my cereal bowl on the table, and the Count Chocula had dried and hardened into little chocolatey barnacles. My clothes from the weekend were in a heap on the bathroom floor, and the whole house smelled a little stuffy. Apparently, I didn’t have my mom’s knack for cleanliness.
I lit a scented candle and kicked all my dirty laundry to the laundry room. I cleared my bowl from the kitchen table, as well several soda cans from my Saturday night visit with Angie. I was wiping the counters (how did I get Count Chocula all over the place?) when I heard the doorbell ring.
A gaggle of girls crowded my doorstep and then spilled into the front room. “Lucy!” McKenzie squealed again, “I’m so excited. This is so cool! You are so lucky to get your own house. How are you going to decorate it?”
I was caught off guard. I’d been expecting two girls and there were six of them crowded into the room. “Come into the kitchen, guys,” I said. “And we can get started.”
I led the girls into the kitchen and directed them to sit at the large pine kitchen table. I hoped they didn’t want snacks or drinks—Angie and Blake had cleared me out. The girls were so loud it sounded like a small chattering riot had started.
I picked up my stack of cards. “Who wants to go first,” I asked, pulling another chair toward the table and sitting down.
“Me!” McKenzie said, unsurprisingly. “I am dying to know which dress to wear. They’re both hot but the green one is sexier, but then again the pink one is more my color, you know what I mean.”
“Mm. Sure.” It was hard to sound very interested in her question. “Come sit over here next to me so I can explain as I go.” I wasn’t sure how I would answer her—it wasn’t like there was a card for prom dresses. McKenzie traded places with the girl seated next to me and I handed her the cards, asking her to shuffle them thoroughly as she thought about her question.
McKenzie dutifully shuffled the cards, an expression of determination on her face. I had to admire her complete, though groundless, faith in my ability to answer her question. If all else failed, I’d just tell her to wear the green one and call it good.
She handed the cards back to me. I turned over four cards into an arrangement I’d learned called the Simple Choices spread.
Once I turned over all four cards, I immediately knew McKenzie should wear the pink dress. I was surprised by the ease of the answer, but figured I should explain it to her.
I pointed at the first two cards. “These two cards represent one of your choices—how you feel about that dress, and how he’ll feel about it. One of the meanings for the Nine of Coins is elegance in like a mature sort of way. So you would feel more sophisticated in the green dress, right?”
McKenzie nodded her head. “Yeah, it’s classier, I guess.”
“This second card is about Kade’s reaction. You drew the Eight of Coins, which is tied in with study, kind of, so I get the feeling that the green dress would remind him of an older woman he knows, like a teacher or something, but not necessarily in a bad way. So that really wouldn’t help you decide, other than when I compare it to his reaction to the pink dress. The pink dress will make him feel nostalgic.”
“What does that mean?” asked one of the other girls at the table.
“It means he’ll think about his past with McKenzie and it’ll make him happy for some reason. And McKenzie will feel sweeter in the pink one, according to this card,” I said, pointing out the Princess of Cups.
“I should wear the pink one, then?” asked McKenzie.
“Well, the point seems to be that either one is good, but yeah, I’d go with the pink one overall.”
“Uh, hello. I already told you to wear the pink one,” said the snub-nosed blonde at the far side of the table. “I want to be next,” she added, walking to McKenzie and nudging her to move.
I gathered the cards and handed them over to the blonde, whose name had slipped my mind. She shuffled the deck and asked me a question about how to convince her parents to pay for her to attend college out of state. She scowled when the reading revealed that her parents were actually correct, that she’d neglect her studies if she were to go out of state.
“I really don’t believe in this stupid witchcraft junk anyway,” she said. “I think you’re just making it up to get attention. If you want my opinion, I am not going to let a bunch of playing cards tell me how to live my future.”
“No one is begging you to be here,” I replied. “Besides, the cards don’t tell you how the future has to be, just how it might be, based on how stuff is going right now.”
“Whatever, I’m out,” she turned and headed for the door. One of the other girls stood to go with her. As the blonde opened the front door, she turned to face me. “Just because everyone’s talking about you doesn’t make you anything special,” she said. “You’re still a nobody to me.”
“And yet, here you are, still standing in my house. ” I gave her a move-along motion with my hand and returned my attention to the remaining four girls. “Who’s next?” I asked. The blonde slammed the front door.
“Ignore her. She’s just bent out of shape that Matt asked you to the dance and not her,” said the tall thin girl next to McKenzie. This was Stella Mitchell, a fellow senior that I’d hung around with a few times before, though she was more Angie’s friend than mine.
“I’m not too stressed about it. Would you like to take a turn?” I asked.
“Sure,” Stella said. She moved closer to me, tucking her long strawberry-blond hair behind her ears. She leaned back in her chair as she handled the cards and lazily passed them back to me. “I don’t really have any pressing questions—can you do just a general sort of reading for me?”
I assured her that I could, and spread the cards.
I was excited when I saw Stella’s cards, since she’d drawn The Star. I had now finished dozens of readings, and this was one of the few times I’d seen a Major Arcana card pulled. The tarot deck had seventy-eight cards, but the first twenty-two, like The Star, were considered to hold greater weight or significance than the other cards, which were called Minor Arcana.
I studied her cards for a moment before continuing. “The first card talks about your life today, and you drew the Star. The Star is the card of natural talent, so probably like your talent for singing or acting.”
Stella nodded politely. She was always the lead in school plays and she did have a great singing voice.
“Your immediate future card is the Ten of Cups. . .” I paused. In my booklet it had said the Ten of Cups’ main meaning was family, but this didn’t feel like the right answer. I looked at the card again, which showed a line of family members, from a dancing old man to a toddler girl, celebrating together. The word that sprung to my mind was “parade,” but I knew that wasn’t the definition listed.
“What did you say? I couldn’t quite hear you,” Stella said.
“Oh, I didn’t realize I said it out loud. I, um, said parade.” I tapped the card, “For some reason this card made me think of a parade,” I said, still more to myself than to Stella.
“Yes, parade, that makes sense for immediate future. I have the processional at the rally this Friday,” Stella said.
I had forgotten that Stella was the Senior Queen and would be in on a float at our year end rally. So parade would actually work as an interpretation of the card. Interesting. I remembered then the advice that Aurora at the Mystic Wave had given me: I should always trust my first instinct.
I moved on to the third card in the Stella’s reading, the Four of Swords. “This card is for an injury…you are going to get hurt somehow.” My voice tapered off; I wasn’t sure what to say. Maybe I needed to go back to the Mystic Wave and ask how you were supposed to break bad news to people.
Stella didn’t change expression as she looked calmly at me. “What sort of injury does it mean, Lucy?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s look at the last card and see
if I can figure it out.”
The fourth card was meant to represent something Stella didn’t know about, but that would impact her future. She had drawn the Ten of Wands, which showed a man pulling some sort of cart behind him. The man’s expression was painful, eyes closed as he strained forward. The cart looked overloaded and heavy; he barely had the strength to pull it. The man was barefoot and appeared to be walking across hot coals with a background of flames shooting behind him. According to the booklet, this card’s primary meaning was being overburdened. Again though, I felt less compelled by the meaning of the card than by the picture. The flames, I thought, the fire is what’s important here.
And then suddenly the meaning clicked. I asked Stella to follow me back into the front room so we could speak privately.
“Stella, I know this sounds dumb, but you can’t be in the processional.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s going to be some sort of fire and you’ll get hurt. Really hurt.”
“Lucy,” she said, speaking quietly and slowly. “I have to be there. I’m the Senior Queen. I’m in the center of the royalty float. I’m not going to back out.”
My face flushed and my mind raced as I tried to think of a way to convince Stella not to go. I knew my intuition was correct; I knew Stella would be severely injured or killed at the rally and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. I had to find a way to scare her into not attending.
“Stella, you have to listen to me,” I said. “Picture all your hair burned right off your head. Picture your skin melting until you look like a monster. Picture your dress blazing as it scorches your body. This is important. You’re going to get really, really, hurt.”
“Lucy, that’s disgusting. This was fine as a game but you’re being morbid,” she hissed. “And I’m going to leave now and I don’t want to hear a word about this from you or anyone else.”
She gently pushed past me back into my kitchen. “I need to leave now,” she politely told the remaining girls. “I have to run some errands and get home.” She quietly gathered her things, as did the other girls. I showed them to the front door, and as I closed the door behind them, I felt awash with embarrassment.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything to Stella about what I saw in her cards. I was new to card reading, after all, and I was bound to make mistakes. I sulked back into the kitchen and looked at the table, where her reading was still spread out. The four cards stared upward, their message practically shouting a warning at me. I knew I was correct. I knew Stella would be hurt, and I would be powerless to stop it.
TUESDAY MORNING FOLLOWED A RESTLESS NIGHT filled with nightmares about everyone I knew being engulfed in flames. I was tired and irritable and didn’t much feel like sitting through a day of classes.
I stopped for gas on the way to school and noticed a clique of girls giving me scathing looks from across the parking lot. Ugh. I looked down at the pump. I wasn’t in the mood for an argument this early in the morning, and I could see that something was brewing.
“Hey freak.” I looked up to see that the girls had approached me, and one of them scowling in an un-pretty way as she addressed me. Great.
“Did you need something, Miss Sunshine?” I asked Scowling Girl.
“You know, you really pissed off Alyson,” she said.
“Hmm, well that’s super tragic,” I replied. I didn’t even know who Alyson was.
“It’s not like she believed your stupid cards, anyway.” Aha, Alyson. The angry blond from the readings the night before.
“Wow,” I said. “How can I even go on living, knowing that Alyson’s belief in my abilities has been shattered? I’m crying on the inside.”
Scowling Girl blinked and was silent for a moment. “You think you’re so smart or whatever, but really you’re just like short and. . .weird. I don’t know why Matt would want to go anywhere near you.”
“It is a mystery,” I replied in a pleasant voice. “Why on earth would he want a date with selling points other than ‘tall’ or ‘normal?’ If it isn’t too mentally taxing a challenge, maybe you could research it and get back to me.”
I hung up the pump and got in my car, slamming my door before the conversation could continue. Pulling away from the pump, I was startled by the sound of a thunk on my back window. Glancing at my rear view mirror, I saw a squishy red mess sliding down toward my trunk. One of the girls had thrown a Slushy at my car. Well, at least it looked like it was going to rain, which would save me the trouble of rinsing away the sticky slush.
My day didn’t improve much from there. I fell asleep in two different periods. My throat felt scratchy and I’d left my math homework at home. The Senior Formal was in less than a week and I hadn’t bought a dress yet. At lunch, I was again bombarded with requests from people who’d heard about the tarot readings and wanted one of their own. After the problems I’d had with the last group, I wasn’t eager to hold a repeat performance.
Except, I told myself, that wasn’t really true. If I was honest with myself, I was actually itching to conduct more readings. I felt a compulsion to answer questions, help people sort things out. It was unsettling, but I wished I had my cards with me.
Finally, mercifully, the day ended. I walked to my locker to gather my books and saw Matt there waiting for me, leaning against the locker. “Angie said you weren’t feeling too good,” he said. “So I got you this.” He held out a plastic bottle of orange juice.
I smiled and gave him a hug. He really was a good guy, I felt guilty that I hadn’t spent much time with him during the past two weeks. “Thanks, Matt. I just feel really worn down, I guess.”
“So you wouldn’t be interested coming over to my house, I take it?” He couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice.
“I just want to go home and rest,” I said. Matt nodded and turned to leave. I sighed. “You could come over and watch a movie or something if you wanted. I probably wouldn’t be great company, though.”
Matt brightened. “I’ll do that. I’ll pick up a movie and food and head over. See you at six or so?”
I agreed, giving him another hug and closing my locker. The idea of spending the evening watching a video on the sofa suddenly sounded very appealing. I smiled to myself as I drove home, looking forward to the night ahead.
Promptly at six o’clock, my doorbell chimed. Matt stood there grinning, movie and Chinese takeout in hand, his shaggy hair falling his eyes. I welcomed him inside and gathered plates and forks so we could eat while we watched the movie.
“Are you feeling any better Lucy-puff?” Matt asked half way through the movie, using a dramatic voice that was a pretty good impression of Angie.
“Yeah, I am now,” I said, smiling up at him.
“You want a foot rub?” he asked. I was sitting next to him on the sofa. I swung my legs around and up on to his lap. “Go for it. Impress me with your mad foot rubbing skills.”
Matt took my cold feet in his hands and began massaging them. It was very relaxing and warm. I turned my attention back to the movie and was just getting into it again when Matt tickled my right foot. I shot him a warning glance and he looked back at me innocently, continuing to rub as before. As soon as I looked forward again, he quickly tickled my foot again. This time I was ready, though, and sprung back at him, tickling his neck and under his arms as he laughed.
“Oh yeah?” he said. “Take this!” He tickled me back, causing me to recline backward against the arm of the sofa. He leaned over me, still tickling me, and then we both stopped. The moment was suddenly awkward—he was lying on top of me, his face just above mine. I could feel his breath and the weight of him. I felt anxious and wasn’t sure what I wanted to happen next. I held my breath.
“Lucy, do you—“ he began.
I looked up at him, the sweet blue eyes of this boy who’d been my friend for so long. I paused. What did I want from him? From us?
Matt didn’t wait for an answer. He brought his mouth to mine, softly at first t
hen more urgently. His breathing was fast and he felt warm and good against me. I kissed him back, still not sure what I wanted, but enjoying the feel of him.
I felt one of his hands slide up underneath my shirt, rubbing against me. His other hand snaked downward to the waist of my jeans, fumbling as he unfastened the button and began pulling the zip downward.
“Matt, can we just. . .” I pulled away from him a bit and sat up.
“What?” he stopped and reached out toward me, trying to gently pull me toward him. I laid my head on his shoulder.
“Can we just go back to watching the movie now?” I asked.
“I’m sorry Lucy. Are you mad at me now? I thought that,” he stammered, a red flushed creeping across his cheeks.
“No, it’s ok. It’s not you. I’m not mad, I just . . .”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you. I’m sorry,” he said. He looked so embarrassed and miserable that I had no choice but to throw a Milk Dud at his head. He smiled and we awkwardly turned our attention back to the movie, my body nestled against his, the night quiet around us.
Chapter 10. The Parade Prediction.
THE WEEK CRAWLED ON AS I WORRIED about the processional. By Friday afternoon, my headache had worsened to the point that I felt sick to my stomach and my vision blurred. I ditched my last two classes and headed home early to sleep, knowing that although I didn’t want to witness what might happen at the rally, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from going.
Angie picked me up a few hours later and we headed to the school stadium. She was jittery with pride and excitement, since she had designed and sewn Stella’s dress as a final project for one of her classes and couldn’t wait for her creation to be paraded for the school.
We arrived at the school and I walked with Angie to the classroom where the Royalty members were waiting for the rally to begin. Angie immediately began toying with the straps and hem of Stella’s dress, wanting it to be perfect.
Tarot's Kiss (Tarot Chronicles) Page 5